


almost saved you (and myself)

by ofamaranthlie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU where Niall gets tattooed on the Late Late Show instead of Harry, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5355497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofamaranthlie/pseuds/ofamaranthlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tattoo Roulette on The Late Late Show, and Harry's determined to make sure Niall won't be the one tattooed.</p><p>He has a plan.</p><p>--</p><p>Or, where Harry tries to protect Niall, but it doesn't quite work out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	almost saved you (and myself)

**Author's Note:**

> I saw [ this post](http://chonceinalifetime.tumblr.com/post/134544301077/i-need-so-many-fics-from-this-like-niall-getting) on tumblr and decided to write it because I like to cause myself pain. :') Title from "Almost" by Tracy Chapman.

Harry has a plan.

He thinks of it the moment James explains how Tattoo Roulette is going to work. Niall looks like he’s five seconds from having an anxiety attack, all trembling hands and nervous ramblings, and Harry makes a promise to himself: he won’t let Niall face the tattoo gun.  Niall’s first tattoo can’t be like this, in front of an audience and when he’s clearly not ready for it.  So it isn’t going to happen. Not while Harry’s here.

The plan becomes all the more feasible when he’s told to stand next to Niall, who’s at the end, tapping a nervous rhythm on the lid of his box.  If Niall somehow manages to have the losing box, Harry can easily step in and offer to take the tattoo for him.

Right before they begin, Harry catches Niall’s eye.  Niall looks like a deer in the headlights, like he’s drowning and is in desperate need of a lifeline.  Harry flashes a tiny smile that he hopes comes across as reassuring.

He has a plan.  _I’ll keep you safe._

\--

Box by box opens, and no sign of the ominous tattoo.

It’s down to him and Niall, and Harry accepts his fate of adding to his tattoo collection tonight, regardless which of them has Pandora’s box, as he’s now named it. And really, it’s not a big deal. The new tattoo will be another piece of the puzzle, another stroke of a brush across the canvas of his body that he can look at and admire (and laugh at).

Besides, it’s for Niall; he needs no greater reason than that.

And so when he opens his box and there’s screams and Niall crumpling over his box, Harry does his best not to panic. 

After all, he has a plan.

Niall’s a shaking mess over his box, and as the cheers and gasps begin to subside, Harry swoops to Niall’s side, placing a hand to his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Nialler, it’s okay, you’re not going to get it,” he murmurs, and it’s enough for Niall to lift his head.  There’s a wetness to his eyes, and Harry’s not sure if it’s in relief or fear.

Pulling back, he faces the audience and takes on the bravado of a knight, placing a hand on his heart. “I’ll get it instead.”

That gets the crowd buzzing, and Niall’s looking at Harry with appreciation and affection, and yeah, he’s got this.  His plan will work.

But then. A flurry of disagreement, that _Niall has to get it_ and _this isn’t the Hunger Games, Harry, you can’t volunteer in his place_ , and Harry’s heart is pounding against his chest as a chill runs down his spine because _what_? 

“He can’t. His first one -” Harry tries, the words faltering on his tongue.  He looks to Louis and Liam, needing them to back him on this, and they’re nodding along, offering their agreements, which give him hope.

But.

_Rules are rules, I'm so sorry, Niall._

Niall’s face is something akin to terror as he slowly sits on the ground, curling his knees to his chest as he tries to steady his breathing, and Harry _aches_. 

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry –_

\--

(He holds Niall’s hand the entire time.  Niall holds on for dear life, and Harry wishes he could brush away the tears that prickle the corners of his eyes.

“His first tattoo will be memorable.”

Harry clenches his jaw, rubbing his thumb across Niall’s sweaty, clammy hand.

They say _memorable_ , but as he listens to Niall’s quiet hisses and watches him struggle not to fidget and cry –

all Harry can think is _traumatic_.)

\--

Niall makes a commendable effort to appear put together for the rest of the show, offering a weak smile and reassuring everyone that it’s okay, he kind of likes the small, inked words scrawled across his bicep.  But there’s a quiver to his lips as he shuffles about on his feet, and all Harry wants is to sweep Niall backstage, away from the cameras and the lights and the scrutiny of the audience, and make it better.

Back in the dressing room, the façade crumbles at last and Niall breaks down on the sofa, head in his lap as he gasps for breath.  Harry’s at his side, rubbing his back and murmuring quiet assurances, and he can’t keep the pain out of his voice. 

_I’m sorry._

\--

Harry tries to make it better. 

Back at the hotel, Niall reaches for Harry like he can’t stand to not be enveloped in him, to not feel his weight on him.  Harry takes his time with Niall, all gentle caresses and soft kisses across Niall’s body, pouring his love and apologies across his skin - anything to make Niall feel beautiful, to feel comfortable, to feel _safe_ and _valued_. He brushes away the few, stray tears that leak from Niall’s eyes, gently strokes his fingers down Niall’s arms until his shaking subsides.  Niall breathes Harry’s name like a prayer, and Harry’s not sure if he deserves to have his name said so sweetly, not when he’s failed him.

Later, when they’re curled around each other with the sheets tangled at their feet, Harry traces Niall’s tattoo with careful caresses of his thumb. Niall’s gaze is trained upon the ceiling, teeth worrying his bottom lip and fist clenching and unclenching. Harry brushes the tattoo a little faster, as if he can smear and erase the tattoo from existence; as if he can still fix this, as if he hasn’t utterly failed the love of his life.

Guilt claws at him, burning his insides like acid, and he nuzzles into Niall’s hair and down to his ear. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and Niall barely smiles, hardly more than a twitch of his lips.

“You’ve said that like fifteen times, Haz,” Niall says, a frail attempt at humor, and Harry hates how rough his voice sounds, the result of his backstage breakdown. 

Harry doesn’t dispute that, nor does it make him feel any better. “I tried,” he whispers, voice small. “I tried – ”

Exhaling an unsteady breath, Niall reaches for Harry’s hand, fingers brushing before entwining.

“I know,” Niall says, so much gratitude and pain laced in those two words. “I know.”

Shuffling closer, Harry presses his lips to Niall’s brow in soft kiss, full of everything he wishes he could say.

“Love you,” he murmurs against Niall’s brow, because that’s something he _can_ say, something he needs Niall to know.

Niall shifts to his side, all but burrowing into Harry as he repeats the sentiment, again and again like a mantra.  As Niall wraps his arm around Harry, there’s a flash of that ink, that permanent reminder that makes Harry hold onto Niall just a little tighter than usual. 

 _This wasn’t supposed to happen_ , he wants to say as he nuzzles into Niall’s hair and presses another kiss.  _It wasn’t supposed to be you._

He had a plan.


End file.
